Chapter 32
Alaric
Several times on the journey back I think about taking matters into my own hand. I even begin, but my damn cock will stay hard for no one but her. Frustrated, I give up, letting out a soft groan which makes Guinevere open her eyes and look up from where she had been resting.
“Something wrong, Alaric?”
“You know very well what is wrong with me,” I snap. Which is something so like what I’d expect to come from her lips that I catch myself. Am I pouting now?
What I feel with the princess makes me feel more alive than I have for years. Its intensity consumes me. The warmth of the fire traveling through me, transforming me from a statue, melting me.
She just laughs. “You need a cock in your ass? Too bad the gargoyles couldn't come with us.”
I scowl. “Never. Impossible to believe I have done the things I have done, but the only one who can have my ass is you.”
“What a shame we left my cock back at the castle ruins.”
We have never spoken about the night she took my ass with the wooden cock while I was tied up and at her mercy. I’ve never admitted how much I liked it.
It is a shame. I don’t tell her that, though. Instead I turn away and fasten my trousers. Or I try, until her small hand over mine stops me. With hope I let the front of my trousers fall open again, and in moments the damn thing is hard in her hand, throbbing with need once more.
Guinevere draws the ribbon from the end of her braid, letting her long hair fall loose over her shoulder. She quickly wraps it around my cock and balls, fastening a firm knot. “To remind you who this belongs to now.”
I pulse at the thought. It’s reckless. The bite and nail marks on my skin faded within minutes of our coupling, but this would be hard to explain if Melantha cares to look.
She doesn’t, though. She has never been interested in that part of me, and it long since refused to stand to attention for her. “Yes.” I close my hand around hers and thrust into her fist a few pumps, knowing she won’t take pity on me yet.
She lets me frustrate myself further, until I’m building up a steady rhythm, tip dripping with my need for her all over her pretty pale hand.
Then she pulls away. “Enough. I thought you were taking me to Blackthorn.”
With a sigh, I tuck myself away for good this time. Then I gather our things. “We are a few hours away now. We will arrive tonight. But you must stay out of sight.”
She sighs but doesn’t argue. We set off for the last nine miles we must cover, and with every step I feel her claim on me, reminding me, teasing me.
Signs of civilization are hard to spot through the thick woods, but eventually feeble trails of smoke become visible through the canopy.
The scent of cut wood and animal manure and hay are the first signs the wilderness ends here.
Humans have laid claim to this land. As the trees thin, we come upon the small swathe of open land that surrounds the walls of Thornvale, and I stop us just within the treeline.
“You can go no further, princess. No one can know you live.”
“And what shall I do? Wait on your pleasure like your servant?” She folds her arms across her chest.
I chuckle. “That you would never do. I have never seen you bend your will to any creature.”
The princess frowns. “Why do I have free will when you say you do not? What did you do with my heart when you made me like you?”
I pause, feeling a little silly. “I gave it back to you.”
Her eyes go wide, and her hand flies to her chest. Of course there’s nothing to feel. It won’t beat. “Prove it.”
“I cannot, unless you would like me to tear it out again?”
She blanches. “No.” There’s a pause, and I see her studying me. Eventually she says, “Why?”
I sigh. “Because I did not want you to share my fate.” It’s the simple truth. I’m not expecting her reaction.
Her red lips part and something in her expression softens in a way I have no words for. “You are… not what I thought you were,” she says eventually.
I start to say more, but just at that moment, a familiar tugging in my chest tells me Melantha is calling. Frustrated, I brush a hand over my face. “I must go. Promise me you will stay out of sight.”
She rolls her eyes but does not argue back. That will have to be good enough. Still, it is hard to drag myself away. I’m too conscious of her ribbon around me and the phantom flavor of her on my lips. “I will return as fast as I can.”
There’s a smile on her lips as I shoulder my pack. “I will wait for you.”
The fields are empty in the early morning light.
As I hurry toward the imposing stone walls, the first of the villeins make their way from tiny cottages, hefting tools and setting about preparing the fields for sowing which will happen as soon as the harsh morning frosts let up.
With so many layers of clothing wrapped around them, I can barely make out human features; in their browns and grays and greens they almost blend into the landscape.
There’s no challenge from the guard at the gate as I approach. I’m forced to call out to rouse them—not a good sign. “Hullo there! Open the gates and let me pass!”
A face peeps over the battlements in surprise. “Who goes there?”
“Sir Alaric.”
Eyes narrow under bushy eyebrows. “Alone? With no steed?”
“As you see.”
There’s another pause, but eventually the crank turns and the gate begins to open.
A younger guard calls out to me as I pass. “Looks like the monsters got the better of you this time.”
I make no answer. A monster got the best of me many years ago.
Or perhaps I am the monster. I’ve never been able to decide.
Head down I pass into the settlement, but it’s impossible to miss the signs that this has been a hard year.
Many of the small cottages have no smoke rising from their thatched roof.
I wonder how many days it’s been since these families have eaten if they have no fire burning.
Somewhere, a baby cries and a thin dog scratches in a pile of refuse, sniffing around for a feed. Yet I’m certain there was meat on the queen’s table every night this week.
Though I know the queen will be impatient when I arrive, I can’t resist checking the stables on my way past. It brings a smile to my face to see Tharrok in his stall. He stomps a hoof when he spots me, lifting his black nose and sniffing the air as if to say, “Where have you been?”
I hurry over and run my hand up his nose and scratch behind his ears and he actually lets me. “I am glad you made it back safely, my friend.”
He snorts and I leave him be, lest he takes out his frustration on the stable hand later. I will take him out with me when we make the return journey. If all goes to plan that is.
Melantha’s chamber is silent when I open the door, but I sense her presence. “You called me.”
She turns from her place in front of her mirror, thin brows lifting toward her hairline. “What took you so long?”
“I was attacked in the woods and lost my horse. I had to make my way back on foot.”
Her tight expression suggests she knows I’m omitting details, but she simply snaps her fingers. “Look at me. I’m starting to see wrinkles. Where is the blood?”
I hesitate. With everything that’s happened, I was not able to collect any monster blood for her. “I was attacked. I lost my supplies.”
She turns and glares at me. “Then what am I supposed to do?”
“I must return to the Gloamwald.”
She frowns. “Unacceptable. Do you have nothing for me?”
“Not yet.”
“Then go now and return this evening.”
“Impossible. The people are suffering. They need wood for kindling and fuel, and they need the watch to spare them extra men to guard the fields or none of us will eat next winter.”
Melantha scoffs. “Let them burn animal dung. There must be enough of that. And what do you mean they have no food? They have vegetables.”
I sigh. “All those must be given to the livestock since they cannot graze outside the walls without guards. And all of those end up on your table, Your Majesty.”
“They can wait. My blood is more important.”
I grit my teeth and bite back my retort. It will change nothing, since I can already feel the magic compelling me to obey. I should be glad this gives me an excuse to return to the woods immediately, but it also leaves me no chance to search again for my phylactery.
I give the queen a curt nod and retreat from her chamber before she can ask me more questions. As I gather a few supplies from my own chamber, I call a footman. “Rouse the hunters. I need every man in the courtyard within the hour.”
“Yes, sir.”
When the men have assembled in the yard, I look around at the grim and scared faces. Even the newest recruit, Tomas, is looking worn, as if he’s aged ten years in the few months he has been a hunter.
I know I push them hard, but what else am I to do? Thornvale and its food supplies must be defended, and with the queen demanding more and more blood, I’m often unable to help with the watch or other duties. So the men must do the rest of the work of defending the town.
For the last week they’ve been covering all the tasks I would ordinarily do as well.
What will they do if my plan comes to fruition and I’m no longer here to lead them?
I don’t allow myself to dwell on that thought.
Surely with the queen dead and her demands removed, the people will feel less pressure.
Perhaps with less extravagant food consumption, farmers will not need to go so far from the safety of the walls.
“I am going back into the deep woods,” I announce.
There’s a groan from the men.
“I am going alone.”
The muttering ceases.
“This time of year is crucial for the farmers. They must be allowed to sow the crops unmolested by monsters. It is our job to protect them. I have drawn up two lists. You will work in a roster to keep watch and to scout the woods until I return.” I hand the list to Wilhelm, my most experienced hunter.
“Keep them in line. Let no man travel through the woods alone.”
As I ride across the bridge and out of town, there’s a commotion in the square.
Guards haul a woman and tie her to a wooden stake.
There’s shouting. Rather than stop to help, I spur Tharrok on, worried until I reassure myself no one has spotted the princess.
Perhaps the commotion will be the opportunity we need to get her inside the walls unnoticed.